


Goretober 2017

by LadyontheGrey



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gore, Horror, Other, Pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyontheGrey/pseuds/LadyontheGrey
Summary: My 31 day spree leading up to a hopefully successful NaNoWriMo. Prompts are the chapter titles. Happy Hauntings!





	1. Surreal Gore

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome kiddos! 31 days of horror and gore, at least as close as I can get it. Hopefully as we proceed it gets a little more intense since I'm not used to writing horror. Thanks for reading :)

No Pain, No Gain

‘Something’s not right,’ my brain chimed as light spilled through the bedroom window highlighting my faded comforter. I rubbed sleep from my eyes and rolled toward my night stand. The red numbers of the alarm clock read 6:25, only five minutes before the radio would kick on to let me know it was time to start getting ready for work.   
“No,” I moaned rolling back toward the wall to wait out the alarm. I always felt cheated when I beat it awake unless I still had hours to sleep; heck even fifteen or twenty minutes was acceptable, but what could I gain with only five minutes?  
I must have fallen back asleep anyway because when the alarm started blaring I started awake to the discordant noise. It was neither the radio station I’d left it set on or the uniform beeping of any of the preset alarms. I reached over and fiddled with the station dial to check if I had bad reception but as I turned the knob I only got spots of static and more noise that seemed to set a different tone even though none of it sounded musical at all. I shrugged, switched the unit off, and got ready. I’d buy a new one after work. I liked to get my day started with music.   
On my way out the door I bumped the coffee table. That made the fifth piece of furniture in the twenty minutes it took me to leave the house. Not my day I guess. I locked the door behind me and made my way to the elevator. Thrown off by the morning’s strangeness I was running a little late for the 6:55 bus. I huffed up to the glassed in stop on the corner three blocks from my apartment. There was only one other person waiting, a young woman. She looked tidy in a white blouse and grey pencil skirt and a worn pair of black wedges. Her clothes had seen better days and she kept crossing her arms and biting at her lips.   
“Job interview?” I asked.   
She nodded her eyes widening slightly in panic, but she didn’t otherwise answer.  
“You’ll do great. Just remind yourself of all the things that make you qualified and you’ll be just fine. That’s how I got my first real job,” I chuckled trying to put the woman at least a little more at ease.   
She shot me a wild glance and her lips parted slightly like she was going to say something, but she decided not to and settled her lips into a tight line. She began picking at the skin around her fingernails. When the bus arrived thirty seconds later I waved for her to go ahead of me, but she shook her head violently and took several steps back holding her sides.  
“That was strange,” I said under my breath and boarded. I fished my bus pass out of my pocket and scanned it. I scanned the seats looking for Adam. He was sitting three rows from the front by the window. He lifted a hand and waved me over. I lifted my hand and waved back, Adam’s stare trained on my raised left hand.  
“I don’t have a bus pass,” she stammered after standing on the top steps for several long seconds.   
“Hey, sweetie, that’s okay. You’re intact; the bus is only two secondary dermal scales.” The woman looked to be in her late thirties maybe and she smiled reassuringly at the woman, the gesture pushed her cheeks up into the eyepatch covering her right eye. The woman getting on the boss looked over at the woman and smiled nervously and stepped up to the driver.  
“What the hell man?” Adam asked moving his briefcase to make room for me next to him. I raised a single eyebrow. “When did you get the money for reconstructive surgery?”  
“What surgery?” I asked.   
Before Adam could answer the woman on the steps let out a small grunt of pain and I swung my head around to watch her. I half stood as I watched a tool, that seemed vaguely plier like to me, through the clear box in which her hand was encased grasp her fingernail where it separated from her finger. The plier gave a tug and with slight resistance her nail popped clean off the nail bed.   
“Oh my God! What are you doing to her?” I took two steps toward the front before Adam’s hand found my shoulder and pulled me back.   
“Hey man, calm down. You remember your first payout. Honestly, a couple of dermal scales? Who cares, those will probably grow back in a year, maybe two,” he shook his head. “Hell, I lost my ear, I almost lost my hearing. She’s got it good. I’d hate to show up to my first interview with just a couple of nails missing. She should have sprung a couple of fingers or an eye for a taxi. That would have shown more initiative.”   
I tried to wrap my head around what Adam was saying. I turned back to look at the woman. Her second nail was missing along with a long strip of skin leading up to her wrist that was pearling blood along her ruined follicles.   
Adam nodded his approval. “That’s more impressive. Not anywhere near as impressive as the day you showed up at the office after riding the bullet train for your entire left hand. The boss couldn’t turn away a ruined stump like that, but still, not bad. Wonder if she’s left handed? Or if the machine can only take right hands. That would win her points, if she hobbled her dominant hand.”  
I only stared in horror at the people around me. Everywhere the hallmarks of past injury. The man in the aisle across from me had a prosthetic leg and a stump where his arm used to be, not because of a tragic accident, sickness, or even birth, but for the chance at a job. Was he missing two limbs and even a few fingers from the first job, or was he unlucky enough not to do well in the interview? Would that woman have to sacrifice more or would she be lucky? What about the other candidates? How many were there?   
“Hey, hey Jordan! You need to stop screaming. What is wrong with you? Stop the bus! My friend needs a doctor.” Adam’s voice faded to a dull roar as the world blackened around me. My last thought was a prayer to God that I would wake up back in my own world where my bedroom window faced the West.


	2. Too Much Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of Goretober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day two of Goretober. I'm not as pleased with this one, but I got it done and pushing forward is part of the process :)

Too Much Blood  
“There’s too much blood,” she muttered to herself as her hand crept it’s way to her face and she began picking at the skin around her mouth. ‘And too much screaming,’ she thought. But there had always been too much screaming. She leveled her gaze at the shelves full of mason jars. Not a single spot for the jar in her hand, or the rest of the jars that would come from the bleeder lying on her stainless steel table. She’d have to start from the beginning again. The jar slipped from her grasp, splattering red across her canvas shoes. She let out a roar and began clearing the shelves of the industrial unit with great sweeps of her arms. The screaming from the other side of the room got louder.   
“SHUT UP!” she screamed doubling over. “This is good news for you. I don’t need anymore of your blood. Maybe someone will find you before you die from dehydration.” She grabbed her sutures with a steady hand.   
“Please, I have a wife, she’s pregnant,” the victim pleaded trying to focus on the woman’s face, but blood loss was making normally easy tasks difficult.   
“Shh, I know. And you’re one of the lucky ones. Of all the failed trials, nearly a third of last victims have been found in time to be saved.” Her stitches were quick and delicate. She was ready to be off onto her next assignment.   
“A third? Just let me go. I don’t know what you look like,” he bargained pulling at the restraints.   
“Stop moving. I can’t that’s not part of the experiment. I’m not allowed to just let you go,” she explained. “I’ll find the ratio. Just a matter of time. Maybe one more time. Maybe this time.”  
“What experiment? What are you doing this for?” He squirmed harder and suddenly a knife was pressed to his throat.   
“I told you to stop moving,” she hissed close to his ear. “I can’t leave until I’m finished with you.” He settled. “That’s better. I can’t speak of the experiment.” She finished her work and left him tied to the table. The only thing she took was the dismantled industrial shelving unit. Doomed to continue searching for the golden ratio of body types until only the exact amount of blood from every body filled the exact number of mason jars that the shelves could hold. Then she could finally stop.


	3. As a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be careful what you wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just keep swimming right? This one was actually quite fun. Hopefully we get more and more Gore as we go. I think I'm getting into the swing of things?

St. Masacre High

“I’m home,” she stage whispered to her empty room hoping her volume was low enough that her mother wouldn’t hear her. “You still here?” She looked around everything exactly where she’d left it that morning. Her bedspread crumpled at the foot of her bed, a single pillow tossed to the floor. Her nightstand lined with plastic cups a few precariously perched on her clock radio. It seemed as though it had been a quiet day. “I guess she’s not.” She tried not to let her disappointment overwhelm her. She’d known it was only a matter of time before her new friend left. They always did. She was annoying, overbearing, too much too fast.   
“How was your day?” The voice was quiet, lilting with an unknown accent that warmed the girl’s heart. She hadn’t left.   
“It was miserable. I don’t know why they make us go to school. I’m pretty sure I haven’t learned anything new since grade school. They just repeat the same musty facts in the same dry tones day after day and tell us to get along. I hate school.” The girl flopped down on her bed in an angry heap.   
“Then why do you go?” The woman wore a long dress over copious petticoats and her hair was pulled into a low knot under her feathered fascinator.   
“I don’t know,” the girl heaved a great sigh. “Because my mom would be arrested? We’re supposed to go to school. I used to like school. I liked to learn new things. But then they stopped teaching us new things. Now it’s just a place to get bullied. I guess I’m learning how to lay low and survive.”   
“When I was alive women did not go to school. In fact women were not allowed to go to school. It is a shame that so soon after given the opportunity to learn the education system fell to shambles the way it has.” The woman glided toward the bed. Her body nearly disappeared in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the window. Her body made no dent as she sat on the bed next to the girl.   
“I can’t wait to graduate and get my degree. I’m going to do something about it.” The girl reached over her bed and pulled her backpack into her lap and she began pulling notebooks from the depths of the bag.   
“But that is such a long time out. Is there not something we could do about it now?” The woman asked glancing over the complicated equations scrawled across the girl’s notes.   
“I’ve tried standing up to them. I ended up with a cast. I’m not going to go repeating that little experiment.” The girl made a face and pulled a calculator toward her.   
“They would not be able to hurt you if you fought back. I can help you. The place you chose to confront them also matters. Only on the ground floor, no stairwells this time.” The woman smoothed her cold palm over the girl’s hair causing a shiver to run up her spine.   
“No way. I’m a coward. I’m just gonna keep my head down until college. I’ve heard college is better, fun even. I’ll get into politics and make some legislation.” The girl chewed the end of her pencil.   
“What about the other kids who will suffer before then? Act now, let me help you. I can do what you cannot. Give me control just for one day and I will make sure that they will never hurt you again.” The woman’s gaze bored into the top of the girl’s head. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.   
“And what are you going to do to them? Tell them to back off? Push them down the stairs like they pushed me? I want some particulars.” The girl set her pencil down on her bedspread and looked up at the woman. The woman shimmered slightly in the lamplight. The girl couldn’t have the overhead light on if she wanted to see her. Ghosts were weird.   
“I do not want to hurt them. I just want to scare them. Let them know that we are not people to be trifled with.” The woman’s voice held an edge of rage and desperation that gave the girl pause.  
“I don’t know, fighting fire with fire sounds like a good way to burn the whole place down.” The girl turned back to her work.  
“But they deserve it. And I already said that I won’t hurt them. I just want to teach them a lesson. Help me help you. Let me take possession of your body just for a few hours tomorrow. I swear that I’ll give you control back after I’ve taught them more than that useless school ever could.” The woman’s voice was a tight line of anger now; the accent changed setting the girl on edge. Something wasn’t right. She looked up at the woman once more to find her eyes tight and mouth twisted in a grimace. She shook her head. “Don’t you want to feel safe again?”  
“I do.” The girl let out another sigh feeling her resolve loosen. Maybe it would make her life easier. Just let someone else deal with her problems at least one of them. If the woman could make the bullies stop harassing her for even just the rest of the long school year ahead wouldn’t that be worth it? “You promise you won’t hurt them?”  
“I will not hurt the ones who pushed you. I will put the fear of a wrathful God into them and they will never speak a word to you again.” The woman fought to keep the glee from her face. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for finally come.  
“Okay.” The girl’s shoulders slumped as she handed the weight of her burdens away to the woman who had comforted her and listened to her. The one who had kept her grounded when she had wanted to end it all months ago when she lay in her bed casted leg propped on pillows. The ones who pushed her deserved punishment. No one had listened to her when she told them it wasn’t an accident. “Tomorrow morning. Two hours only and don’t hurt them, just scare them. Make them leave me alone.”  
“Don’t worry. No one at your school will ever tease you again.” The woman vanished from her spot on the bed without a word of goodbye leaving behind the nauseating scent of sulfur she always did. The girl wondered if the woman would stay after helping rid her of the bullies’ taunts.  
Her awareness came back slowly after the woman relinquished control of her body. There was a residual feeling of smug satisfaction coursing through the girl’s veins. The woman must have really enjoyed teaching those girls who was boss. That was the girl’s first thought. Then there was a strange smell, a sort of metallic tang on the back of her tongue that seemed out of place in the hallways. The girl gagged as the smell overwhelmed her senses. Her eyes slowly focused on the scene around her. The empty eyes of her classmates and teachers stared up from the gymnasium floor. “Oh my God,” the girl whispered. “No, oh God no.”  
“Please, please don’t, don’t hurt us. Kacie, please,” Veronica Mathers pleaded from the floor only paced ahead of the girl. The toughest mean girl on the planet begging little Kacie for mercy. Her left leg jutted at an awkward angle, a shard of bone ripping through the skin. The girl tried not to vomit.  
“I couldn’t, I would never.” The girl pushed the hood of her sweater back off her head opening her view to more of the gym. Bodies lay sprawled along every inch red blood seeping into the grooves of the wooden floor. The woman stood near the gym doors laughing in the sunlight, no longer so pale she was translucent, but twisted and tall with two horns jutting from her forehead, one point broken to a flat edge.  
“Thank you Kacie. I couldn’t have earned my horns without you. Now I don’t need permission from stinking little mortals like you to wreak havoc. I promised I wouldn’t hurt them, but I couldn’t keep that promise. They’re only a little banged up though. Hope you don’t mind, but they’ll never harm you again.” The woman vanished from sight leaving a black ring singed into the floor. The girl heard sirens approaching.  
“What have I done?” The girl’s knees hit the floor as officers came into the gym at a run scanning the room for a culprit and finding absolute chaos and a tiny girl sobbing at the center of it all.


	4. Fungus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun with Fungus!

Goblin Fruits  
“Oh come on Marky, it’s just a little party. I’ll be fine,” Celia begged hanging upside down off the side of the couch in the apartment.  
“I didn’t say a word Celia. You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions,” Mark said. He was sitting in the leather recliner typing on his laptop.   
“Yeah, you say that, but you’re judging me. You think it’s a bad idea, you think I’ll get hurt or something. But it’s just a little group of people and we’re going to pitch tents. Honestly, it’s an incredibly safe environment for experimenting. No one will be driving and we won’t be in the city to get into trouble,” Celia swung her legs around to sit up straight.  
“I’m not arguing with you,” Mark said leaning over and checking the yellow legal pad sitting on the coffee table.   
“I want your blessing Mark. You know I’m going to go anyway, but I’d feel better if you said it was okay,” Celia said picking at her nails.   
“Too bad, I don’t approve. You know how I feel about recreational drug use and partying in general.” Mark adjusted his glasses and squinted at his computer.   
“Marky,” Celia pouted.   
“Suck it up sweetheart. You can go, but you can’t stop me from being worried about it all night,” Mark said.  
Celia smiled, “Then come with me.”  
“What?” Mark’s brow snapped together.   
“I said, come with me. You won’t have to worry about my safety if you’re there keeping an eye on me,” Celia said.   
“No way. I’ve got a deadline to make. I had to rework the entire Stanley file,” Mark said shutting his computer and getting up from the chair.   
“Okay,” Celia said. She pushed herself up from the couch and walked down the hall toward her room. “I’m going to get ready. Let me know if you change your mind Marky.”  
Hours later Mark lay in his bed. “No, oh my God no. She’s fine. We are not getting our ass out of bed and driving to the middle of the forest just to see that she’s fine and blazed out of her mind. We have a lot to do tomorrow.” He closed his eyes and tried for another few minutes. “God dammit.”   
The road to the clearing where the party was being held was pitted with potholes causing Mark’s headlights to bounce across the trees. “This is stupid Mark. You’re an idiot.” As he got closer he could see the tents glowing from flashlights and lanterns inside of them, so the party hadn’t slowed down. He’d tried Celia’s phone before heading out, but the jarring pop song ring tone had blared out of her bedroom. It was so like Celia to leave her tether to the real world behind, and Mark usually admired her free spirit, but it was incredibly annoying when he needed reassurance that she was safe.   
Mark parked next to the cars of the party goers. As he switched off his engine he noticed an unusual silence settle around him. He wasn’t an avid attender of parties, but he generally thought they were louder, even if everyone was toked out. He opened the door and started across the leaf littered ground. It continued to be too quiet. He passed the first tent and approached the center of the ring of tents where a fire burned low in a ring made from stacked rocks. That also struck him as more than a little odd. All the lights in the tents were still on, so they weren’t asleep. Normally the fire would still be roaring. Mark walked past the fire ring to the tents on the other side. Maybe they were facing the setting moon contemplating the existence of life on other planets or whatever it was high people did.  
He tripped over the first body fifteen steps past the most westward tent. “Shit, what are you doing out here?” Mark pulled his phone from his pocket and switched on the flashlight app. The light fell on what Mark assumed used to be a face.  
“Holy shit,” his voice came in a hoarse whisper. “Oh my God, what the Hell.” He looked down at the ruined body of a human person. The face was caved in, one eyeball pushed out of the way by a large red capped mushroom. Several small white mushrooms pushed their way from the corpse's mouth. The body was indistinguishable between male and female; it looked as though it had been there for months. He tilted his phone to survey the surrounding area, several more body lay listless on the forest floor. Each body was riddled with fungi of varying shapes, colors, and varieties. Shiitakes grew alongside gray morels in the ribcage of a yellow haired woman. A yellow haired woman who looked very familiar. “Celia,” the sob tore up Mark’s throat and he clasped a hand over his mouth. Why? What was he afraid of? No one could have done this to his friend. Some of the fungi growing took years to mature and here they were full grown using Celia’s organs as soil. Nothing about it made sense; he needed to call the police.  
“So, what do you think kept Mark away from a great party like this?” Kevin was a mutual friend of Celia and Kevin. He knew Mark didn’t party. He also knew that Celia had a huge crush on Mark. But she suspected that Kevin might have a thing for her, hence why he was bringing up Mark’s obvious absence.   
“He’s a lame ass. We all knew it. I tried to get him to come. Besides, this party blows anyway,” Celia blew out a loud breath.   
“How so, everyone else is having a good time. Maybe you blow,” Kevin said snickering at his own joke. He looked around the fire, several couples were attached making the most of the romantic atmosphere.   
“Whatever Kevin. I’m gonna take a walk.” She pushed herself up from the stump she was sitting on.   
“Yeah, ok. I’ll be here if you need me,” Kevin said saluting her with his beer bottle.   
Celia walked far enough into the woods that the campsite blurred into a smudge of light that she kept in view of her left side. She wanted distance, but also didn’t want to get lost.   
“Hey there,” a deep voice echoed through the trees to her right. Celia jumped and let out a squeak of fear. “Hey now, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. You see I live in a cabin not too far from here. I happened to glance out the window and saw your little get together.”  
“Oh,” Celia said a little sheepish. She was a little tipsy still. “Um, we didn’t mean to disturb anyone, we didn’t know anyone lived out here.”  
“Nah, groups come camp out at the clearing all the time. I’m used to it. I just wanted to know if you guys had room for one more?” the man asked stepping close enough for Celia to get a decent look at him. He was gorgeous. Taller than any guy she’d met in person her head came up to his well defined collar bone. She looked endlessly up into his face and met his strangely colorless eyes that were widened to catch any light in the darkness giving him a startled, vulnerable expression. Her gaze raked over his sharp features and lingered on his ears, they were oddly pointed like his nose, chin, and cheekbones. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.  
“Of course, there’s always room for one more. It’s kind of lame though, so don’t get your hopes up,” she sighed thinking about her lame friends and lame Mark who wouldn’t come party with her and then the stranger was smiling his pointed smile at her and thoughts of Mark vanished.   
“It won’t be lame for long,” he said holding a plastic bag of dried mushrooms between his tapered fingers.   
“Shrooms huh? I don’t know about that,” Celia hedged her mind clearing momentarily of the languid thoughts she was having about this stranger. “I’ve only done pot before.”  
“They’re harmless, just good natured fun. I promise I’ll keep you safe. I’ll be your keeper. I’ll let you all enjoy and make sure you all stay safe,” the man promised.  
“Where’s the fun in that for you?” The warning bells were sounding in her mind, but thoughts of him holding her safe with she floated out a new high tempted her.   
“Honestly, it’s fun to watch. You won’t hurt yourselves, but you’ll say and do things you wouldn’t normally and seeing people act like that is rather enjoyable to me,” he said slinging an arm around her shoulders making her feel warm all the way through.   
“That sounds okay I guess. I’m sure the others will think so too, let’s go get this party really started,” Celia felt a grin spread. It had been a long time since she’d had any real fun.   
One by one all her friends took a shriveled cap into their mouths. The effects were immediate. Celia felt a strange weightless euphoria take control and she began to laugh. She was the first one to try the stranger’s offerings. She was the first to notice that not everything was as he had promised. She felt a nagging sensation behind her right eye. An itch. She began scratching at the corner. She continued scratching even though she knew she should stop, that the wetness she felt on her fingertips was blood, but she couldn’t feel a thing. She didn’t feel it when her eye popped from its socket allowing a plate sized mushroom to bloom over half her face, she didn’t feel it when a row of perfect button mushrooms raised themselves from the tissue over her heart. Didn’t feel it as she fell to the ground dead; the mycelium wormed it’s way through her body into the blood soaked soil to create the perfect mushroom garden for fey-kind.


	5. Medical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medical Mishaps are no laughing matter.

Medical Mishap  
The hallway leading to the morgue was quiet. It was always quiet in the basement of the hospital. No blaring of patient alarms, no codes being called over the intercoms. That was why the sleep study lab was situated just a few doors down from where autopsies were performed. Jeremy had been going in for sleep tests for three months now and he still wasn’t used to it. More than once he had shared the elevator with a body coming down from the upper floors.   
“Hey there, in for another study?” the pretty blond nurse said flipping through Jeremy’s chart.   
“Yeah, I think it’s getting better though. I sleep more often, sooner I guess,” Jeremy said.   
“That all sounds really good. Doctor Barnes should be by in a few minutes. They’re going to get you a dose of Halcion and put you to bed and see how you respond tonight,” the nurse explained.   
“I thought Doctor Barnes was a pathologist?” Jeremy asked the color fading from his cheeks.   
“He is, but he’s a licensed medical doctor and he was originally neurologist. Doctor Warner is out sick, but you’re in good hands with Doctor Barnes. Let’s go get you hooked up to the machines,” the nurse said showing Jeremy into the room.   
“Good evening Jeremy. I’m Doctor Barnes. I’m stepping in for Doctor Warner today. I want you to go about your normal nightly routines. Act as though you’re going to bed at home. But first take this.” The doctor handed him a plastic cup with an oval blue pill resting at the bottom and a plastic cup of water.   
Jeremy swallowed the pill and brushed his teeth at the stainless steel sink in the corner of the dim room. Then he put on his pajamas like he would at home. After that he climbed into bed and pulled the cool sheets around his waist. No matter the doctors said to do everything that he would normally do before bed at home, it was never the same. The room was too cold and the blankets were itchy. And he knew he was being watched. The blinking light on the camera by the door served as a reminder that he wasn’t alone in the dim room.   
Eventually Jeremy relaxed enough to fall asleep. It was getting easier for him to sleep in the strange environment. He was floating in the space between sleeping and awake when he noticed it. At first he thought he was dreaming it, a strange pressure on his chest.   
“Wake up Jeremy, the fun is starting,” a voice hissed. Jeremy slitted his eyes. Sitting square in the middle of his chest was a small creature.   
The door to the sleep study room swung open. Doctor Barnes was backlit by the hallway light. Jeremy couldn’t see the shadow’s features, but there really wasn’t anyone else it could be. Coming to take vitals or some other test.   
“Fast asleep, good,” Doctor Barnes said. He closed the door behind him and pulled the stainless steel tray close to the bed. Jeremy’s eyes twitched under his eyelids. “Achieving REM sleep, strange.” The doctor pulled Jeremy’s lids back and peered into them with a penlight from his pocket. Jeremy tried to make eye contact with him, but his eyes wouldn’t cooperate. His eyes skittered across the creature still sitting on his chest. The creature grinned up at Jeremy. Doctor Barnes ignored the creature.   
“We’re going to test your reflexes now,” Doctor Barnes said pulling a shining scalpel from the table. Jeremy tried to scream, but he couldn’t get his body to respond to his commands. His respiration rate didn’t even spike. The doctor moved his hands forward and laid the empty one against Jeremy’s arm. He slowly slid the knife up Jeremy’s forearm and let it slide into the crook of his elbow exposing the veins and muscles. He slid the scalpel blade under the muscles pulling them individually making Jeremy’s fingers curl to his whims.   
“Now let’s see what’s causing that insomnia, huh? Which part of your brain is making you such a freak,” the doctor said coldly. He removed the knife from Jeremy’s arm and dragged it up to his forehead. Jeremy strained to move even a single muscle on his own, to let the doctor know he was still there, he wasn’t a body in the morgue. The doctor started at his left ear, the cut was deep and sure all the way to his right ear. He peeled the skin back from Jeremy’s skull and wrapped his knuckles against the bone. “Can’t cut this with a scalpel. I’ll have to get the bone saw.” Jeremy tried to scream. He felt the small serrated blade pulling his skull apart. Tears slid down his cheeks as the doctor separated the halves. “Ah, here’s the problem.”  
“I said, is there a problem?” a woman’s voice broke through Jeremy’s fevered thoughts. “You keep thrashing. Are you okay Jeremy?”   
Jeremy slowly surfaced from his dreams. There was no longer a small creature sitting on his chest and Doctor Barnes was nowhere to be seen. The stainless steel table was still resting along the far side of the wall. His head and arm throbbed at the memory of his nightmare. “No, I, I don’t think this medicine is the right one. I don’t want to stay here any more. I want to go home.”


	6. Ball-Jointed Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fun and games until someone gets hurt.

Playtime  
He pulled the cardboard lid from the box with a gentle tug sending swirls of dust into the sunlight streaming through the dirty windows. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find when he offered to help his parents clear out his great aunt’s attic, but it wasn’t nearly as fun as he had hoped. Among the faded tissue paper laid a doll, not the dusty static relics scattered around the rest of the house. Max laid a finger against the doll’s cool cheek. Like the other dolls she was made out of porcelain, but she was slimmer but still as tall. Most of her features more human-like except for the eyes, they were too big for her face giving her a melancholy expression. There was slight bulk at all her joints under the cream gown she wore despite her otherwise slim build. Max lifted her from the paper to investigate. He found that she was hinged at the shoulders, arms, and wrists giving her more mobility than the other dolls. He laid a cautious hand on her legs and found her ankles, knees, hips, and waist also moved at a slight touch.   
“I guess I always knew Aunt Tilda was a little weird,” he said pulling her hand up to her mouth. It was molded to have slightly parted lips that were then painted a dark red. She looked like she was shocked that he would insult his aunt. “Sorry.” He heard himself mutter. He set her gently back against the crinkly papers.   
“Find something cool champ?” his dad called over the stacked boxes.   
“Maybe. It’s kind of strange. Might be a collector’s item or something,” Max said settling the lid over the doll, shielding himself from her gaze.   
“Well, let me see it. We can’t know what it’s worth if I don’t know what it is,” his father said coming over. Max’s father owned an antiques store and had jumped at the chance to clear out his aunt’s house after her passing in case there was anything of value. It was a little callous to her memory in Max’s opinion, but no one else had argued.   
“Here,” Max said passing the box to his father feeling a pang as it left his palms. He watched as his father surveyed the contents.   
“Looks pretty cool. I’m sure someone else is into collecting stuff like this. It’s a ball-jointed doll Max. One’s this old are actually pretty rare, or maybe she’s a recent purchase. You see she’s got more of the modern design. Even if it is a new model, they’re still worth quite a bit to the right buyer. Good job Max,” his dad said sliding the doll into the pile to be taken to the store.  
“Shouldn’t we ask if someone in this family wants it though? What if it is old, then they might want it or something,” Max said. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to see the doll sold to some collector.   
“Don’t worry Max, her kids and grandkids already went through all this stuff. Anything they didn’t take with them is up for grabs, including that doll,” his father said. “We’ll get her appraised and on an auction site before the week is out.”  
“Yeah, but,” Max said furrowing his brow.   
“What Max? Do you want the doll? You’re almost twelve years old, you don’t need to be playing with dolls. Unless you think it’ll impress some girl? You can’t just give away money like that,” his dad said.  
“I don’t want it,” Max said fighting the hurt. His father never understood him. Never listened. He just thought the doll didn’t want to be sold, but that sounded insane when he thought it, so he let the matter drop.   
That night Max lay in bed thinking about the doll in his Great Aunt’s attic. It was silly to think she might be lonely, she was a doll. But that’s the thought that flitted through his mind as he lay awake in bed. He was about to fall asleep when he heard a strange skittering noise from downstairs. Max swung his legs out of bed. He heard one of the stairs let out a sigh, not a full creek. ‘Maybe it’s the dog,’ Max thought. He heard a muffled cry from his parents room, a sort of wet gurgling noise. “Mom?”  
Max crept down the hall toward the open door of his parents’ bedroom. The room was darker than the hall and Max let his eyes adjust. When they finally did he let out a startled gasp. He thought he saw the doll from his Aunt’s house sitting on his father’s throat a long knife from the kitchen pressed against the gaping wound in his father’s throat. But that was crazy. Max’s mother slept soundly next to her husband unaware that her husband had been murdered.


	7. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balancing work and play is easy with a little help.

‘Til you Drop

     It was supposed to be fun. Something all the others were doing. Sleep was a pointless waste of time. Hidden time. Time parents didn’t know you had. Time to ignore homework and sports practice and college apps. Stolen time. And it was fun...at first. 

     “Come on Riley, just take the pill and come out with us,” Becca said. Becca was always the first one of her friends to try new things. When she had heard of  _ Nyx _ , a new club drug she'd insisted that the squad try it. 

     “I don't know Becca,” Riley said hedging. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”

     “That's what I'm trying to tell you Ri. You'll have time to do both. That's the beauty of  _ Nyx _ , you won't sleep. You'll feel great even tomorrow. So get your lazy ass dressed, we're going out tonight.”

     “Oh my God. Last night was amazing. I can't believe Sara went home with Zac and they both skipped classes today,” Becca said over lunch in the university cafeteria. 

     Riley nodded raising her fork to her mouth. She had a pretty good time the night before and she'd had time to study and she was focused through the test. There was a strange buzzing of energy that she didn't normally feel. “Why use it like that though? What a waste.”

     “What else would you use it for? I mean they're using it pretty much the way I wish I was using it,” Becca said with a sigh. “I'm not saying I'm not happy for her, I am. I also just wish it was me instead.”

     “You and Zac? He's a total jerk. Like a total playboy. You said you didn't want anything to do with that type of guy,” Riley said. Becca shrugged. 

     “So we going out tonight?” Becca asked taking a sip from her coffee. 

     “What? No way. Twenty-four hours without sleep is enough for me thanks, even if I do feel fine,” Riley said. 

     “Don't you wanna enjoy your life while you're young? I mean it's not everyday you get the ability to both enjoy your time and also still have time to study,” Becca explained. 

     “Yeah and what is that drug doing to me? To my mind? How does it keep me awake and fresh as a daisy? No way are there no consequences. I'm going to pass on the partying tonight,” Riley said. 

     “Ri, you’re being paranoid. That’s just government tape trying to keep us down. I’m sure it’s harmless, the army uses it during battles,” Becca said.

     “You found that on some propaganda website. I’m not falling for it and you shouldn’t either,” Riley said. “I’ve gotta go, I still have midterms to study for.”

     The next morning in Civics Becca was not in attendance. Riley shook her head at her friend’s empty seat. She knew it was going to happen eventually, but she didn’t think it would be that soon. Sara and Zac hadn’t returned either. At the rate they were going, they wouldn’t graduate at all. And then how would they afford their drug habit? No, she was being too harsh on them. They would come back to their senses. They would come back; Becca had said that  _ Nyx _ gave them the ability to do both. After she had her fill of parties, Becca would come back. Riley gave her a week before she’d had enough. 

     But the week passed and still no sign of Becca, Sara, Zac, or several other students. It seemed  _ Nyx _ was making the rounds and was highly addictive. Even Riley had already considered taking another dose to stay up and study for her Ecology final. She had decided against it after that first hit though. She had been up a total of forty-eight hours before she could finally calm her mind enough to sleep. She decided to go to Becca’s apartment and make sure that her friend was okay. She was hoping to find her passed out in her bedroom, crashed from all the drugs. 

     She buzzed Becca’s number at the door. She tried twice more before buzzing Becca’s neighbor. “Hello?”

     “Hey Mr. Bingam, it’s Riley. I’m trying to check up on  Becca. She’s not answering,” Rilley said. 

     “Come on up dear. Make sure she’s doing okay. She’s been up at such strange hours these past few nights,” Mr. Bingam said.

     “Thanks Mr. Bingam,” Riley said taking the stairs two at a time. Mr. Bingam seemed to think that Becca might be home.

      “Becs? You home?” The door had been locked and Riley let herself in. “Becs? You’ve missed a week of class. You’re going to get kicked out if the professors haven’t started already. You’ve been joking around enough.” Her friend wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. She walked back to the bedroom. She found her friend lying facedown in the pillows. “Becca? Please be asleep.”

      She approached the bed with tentative steps. Her friend let out a low groan. “Ri?” Her voice came out in a low rasp. “Ri?”

     “Becca, God I’m glad to hear you. Are you feeling okay?” Riley asked.

     “Ri?”

     “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?”

     “Ri?”

     “Becca please you’re scaring me.”

     “Ri?” Becca’s are twitched on the bed trying to gain purchase to push herself up, but seeming to lack the strength. 

     “I’m going to call an ambulance okay Becca. I’m going to get you some help,” Riley said backing away. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

     “Ri.” There was no question this time. Her friend recognized her. She tried again to get her hand around to push herself up. She managed to push herself from the bed. Riley pulled her cellphone from her pocket. Becca used her arms to pull herself toward her friend. 

     “911 what’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice asked. 

     “There’s something wrong  with my friend. She’s not answering me, just saying my name over and over. We need an ambulance at Prairie View apartments,” Riley said. 

     “Ma’am, has your friend touched you? It’s very important that we know that information,” the dispatcher said. 

     “No, I didn’t want her to. I’m a bad friend. She fell off the bed, but I left her on the floor,” Riley felt a sob rip up her throat. 

     “You did the right thing ma’am. Your friend needs professional help. I’ve sent an ambulance to your location. Please wait outside for the EMT’s to show them where your friend is. Also, please lock the door behind you. It is important to your friend’s safety that she remain in her residence,” the woman said. 

     “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let her keep taking that drug. That’s what did this. I know it is. I’m so sorry,” Riley sobbed. She slid down the locked door in the hallway outside of Becca’s apartment. 

      “No, you’re doing great. Do you want to stay on the line until the paramedics get there? They’ll have a couple of questions for you. They’ll want to know if you ever took  _ Nyx _ like your friend did. You need to be truthful. They’re there to help. What’s your name hon?” the dispatcher asked.

      “Riley. My name’s Riley. I did, Becca talked me into it. I had a test and we were out late. I never took it again I swear, I’m sorry. I should have stopped her,” Riley said. Then there were sirens. And men in full hazmat suits were running past her.

      “Where is the patient?” one of the men asked in a tinny voice. 

      “Through here,” Riley said pushing the keys into the lock. “Please try to help her.”

      “Come with me ma’am. We have a few more questions for you. The others will take care of your friend,” the man said leading her out the door by her arm. 

      “We need to know, did your friend take the drug  _ Nyx _ ?” the suited man asked. Riley nodded. “Did you also take the drug?” Riley nodded again. “When did you take the drug?”

      “A week ago. Last Wednesday. I had a midterm Thursday and Becca and Sara wanted to go to the bars. Becca talked all of us into it. Is she going to be okay?” Riley asked.

     “And you didn’t take another dose?” the man asked. 

     “No, I didn’t want to risk my future. I don’t do drugs,” Riley said.

     “And you haven’t noticed any adverse side effects since the first time you took the drug?” the man asked.

     “I was up for forty eight hours. It was okay, I got a lot done and we had fun, but I know what lack of sleep can do to you,” Riley said. 

     “Doug, we’ve got a possible 1080. We need another bus down here at Parkview,” the man said.

     “What’s that? Is Becca going to be okay?” Riley asked again. 

      “Look, we don’t know. A lot of kids are getting sick. But you might be able to help your friend. We need you to come to the hospital with us so we can run some tests. Your friend will probably die if you don’t,” the man said. Riley nodded and got in the back of the ambulance that came. The two new EMTs hooked her up to a saline drip and began drawing vials of blood before they began driving. 

     “You could save a lot of people kid. It’s your lucky day,” the new EMT said. 


End file.
